


Estranged Ties

by JinglesandBells



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Gen, mentions of Nate Sewell/Female Detective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinglesandBells/pseuds/JinglesandBells
Summary: Sometimes, Rebecca wonders how Rook would've reacted to the relationship that she and Joanne had developed.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Estranged Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! So, I've decided to post my first Wayhaven Chronicles fic and why not feature Rebecca and Joanne ( my Detective ) and their quite estranged relationship.

Sometimes, Rebecca wonders how Rook would’ve reacted to the relationship that she and Joanne had developed. 

Memories of her daughter’s love had faded away. No more words of excitement whenever Joanne saw Rebecca, or reaching to hug the woman and saying  _ I love you, Mum!  _ those were long gone. Replaced with apathetic looks and harsh words and  _ Goodbye Rebecca  _ and she didn’t realize how much those things  _ stung. _ ..until it was too late.

  
But yes, Rebecca wonders how Rook would’ve reacted to their relationship. 

Would he try to talk to Joanne? Would he grab and squeeze Rebecca’s hands  _ ( like he used to whenever things got too fast and she kept pushing and wouldn’t stop-)  _ and gently murmur  _ Give her time, Becca.  _ or even settle their disagreements quick and fast, just like he used to with others. 

_ Before he died.  _

But whenever she looks at Joanne — with her wild strawberry curls and burning dark brown eyes and fierce attitude — she sees Rook. And it makes it hurt even more to be around Joanne Winchester.

And sometimes, Rebecca wishes that it wasn’t like that. 

She wishes that things were better. 

That Joanne didn’t hate her. Didn’t look at her as if she were a  _ stranger.  _ Speaking to her as if she were a co-worker whenever Joanne was working as the Detective. She wishes that Rook was alive and that things were better, simpler and that Joanne didn’t hate her so much. 

  
  
  
  


It’s near winter when Rebecca makes a visit to Joanne. Unit Bravo had been given another assignment and she’d taken the time to see her daughter. Her maternal instincts had gone off when she’d gotten news from Nate that  _ Joanne is retiring from being Detective for awhile.  _ and yet, it didn’t make sense.

If there was one thing that Rebecca knew ( or at least, had become familiar with) is that her daughter was married to her work. If she hadn’t been married to Nate, her work would’ve become her partner. Something that she and Rebecca seem to agree with. She looked so out of place in her pale suit, her stiff posture and how...foreign it was being in her daughter’s new apartment. But she pushed back the nerves and knocked on the door. 

It was silent. Nobody came to the door and, for a brief second, Rebecca felt nervous. Had something happened? Something that she was too late to stop? Was her daughter sick? Was she-? 

And then the door opened. And it revealed a tired Joanne Winchester….

….With a sleepy eyed newborn in her arms. 

_ A child.  _

Joanne looked confused and sleepy and on guard. But Rebecca couldn’t hear her words, couldn’t even hear the soft whines that came from the newborn in Joanne’s arms. 

_ A child in her arms… _

_ A child… _

_ She looked so much like Rook…  _

And Rebecca didn’t expect for the black dots to fill her vision as she fainted. 

  
  
  


The silence was deafening as the two women sat across the table. Joanne had placed the newborn (“Her name is Guinevere.” is all she said when Rebecca came to.) into a bouncer while warily watching her mother, almost as if she was worried that the woman would pass out again. Steaming cups of coffee had been made for each other and Joanne poured the creamer into hers without blinking, her free hand tapping against the table. It took a moment but Rebecca found her voice.

“I-I…” She pauses. Almost as if she’s afraid that if she continues, her words will die and she’ll grow weak. “I...I didn’t know that you and Nate had a child..” 

“Most of Wayhaven knows.” Joanne murmured, her dark eyes glancing at her sleeping daughter. “I’ve been on Maternity leave since November.” 

“Is that..when she was born?” 

“...Yes.” And the coffee doesn’t feel warm anymore. She missed it; she missed her own granddaughter’s birth and-

-and no one told her- “Why didn’t you call me?” Rebecca feels the hurt leaking out and she can’t close the wound, can’t hide it anymore. “When-when she was born, why didn’t you-”

“At the time I had to get an emergency C-section.” Joanne cuts her off, her voice low and tired. “So, I didn’t have time to exactly call anyone, Rebecca. And would you really have come if I did?” Her words are sharp, brittle and quiet. 

“Joanne, I would’ve come to see you, you know that.” Rebecca defends, and mentally curses herself when she feels the hurt come spilling out as if she's a wounded animal. It’s painful to feel this way, and she can’t stop it. But all Joanne does is stare at her - dark eyes unblinking, fingers clasped around a mug and the only noise that Rebecca can hear is the sound of her grandchild’s soft snores. 

“Would you have really?” She says quietly. “Nothing supernatural was involved. So would you have  _ really  _ came to see me?” 

“Yes, I-”   
  
“Because that isn’t what you  _ used  _ to do, if I remember correctly.” And just like that Rebecca recoils. Because she remembers.

Remembers the times that her daughter would call her, leave messages filled of panic and harsh sobs, of words  _ Mum please answer I’m scared I can’t breathe please  _ and even wanting to talk to her mother but Rebecca never responded. 

Because just like Joanne, her work was her lover, something to fill the hole that Rook left behind with his death.  _ An addiction.  _

An addiction that should’ve been cut when she had her daughter. But it was too late. 

“Joanne, I understand that you’re upset with me,” Rebecca begins, and Joanne gives a light snort and she tightens her grip that she has on her mug. “But, I’m _ trying  _ Joanne. I really, really am. And I know that it’s going to take awhile for you to forgive me, or even look at me the way you used to, but...please.” Her voice is pleading and it makes Joanne stiffen.   
  


“Please forgive me.” 

It was silent. Nobody spoke after those words and the silence is practically killing her. She wants her daughter to say something, please say something, say-   
  
“No.”

And she flinches. She knows that voice; it’s the tone of someone that is tired and drained of the same thing. It’s the voice of a woman who’d given up on her mother. It was the voice that meant that Joanne Winchester wasn’t here anymore; Detective Winchester had taken over. But even as she says that single word, Rebecca feels that wound opening up and this time, she’s trying to cover it up.

  
“Wh-what?” Her tone is breathless, weakened and  _ confused.  _ But Joanne? Joanne’s eyes are dark, heavy and uncaring. 

“I said: no.” She continues, “You’ve had your chance to apologize to me, to connect with me when I’ve actually given it to you, Rebecca. And when I hear your apologies now...they mean nothing to me, they don’t exist.” And Rebecca just shakes her head in denial ( she wants to tuck her fingers into her ears to block out the words, it’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not-) even while Joanne raises a brow at that.

“But I am sorry, Joanne,” Rebecca’s voice feels weak, unlike herself, and reaches for her daughter’s hands. “Please just let me-” As if she were fire, Joanne snatches her hands back. 

“Don’t.” Joanne has to force the word out. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want you touching me.” 

As if she sensed it, Guinevere gave a sleepy whimper and both women’s heads snapped towards the bouncer. Soon, the whimpers became light fussy noises and it makes Joanne click her tongue as she bends down and picks up her daughter, holding her to her chest. “Hush now…” She coos, a tone softer than before. “I know, I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to wake you, lovely, Mama’s having a talk with-” Then her cold and dark eyes peer up at Rebecca.

And for a brief second, Rebecca wants to recoil. Her eyes are calculated, cold, as if she’s plotting what to say next to the awake newborn. And then, Joanne speaks again.

“-your Grandmother. That’s all...shh, shh…” Guinevere seems to quiet down but her legs give a slight kick which makes Joanne chuckle. “I know you’re still upset that Daddy left but he’ll be back soon. I swear.” And that seems to make the fussy noises disappear at the mention of Nate. 

And Rebecca can’t look at the sight of it. 

It’s too much. It’s making her remember.

It makes her remember the days that Rook spent holding a fussy Joanne - who’s close to having a tantrum - as he bounces her onto his hip and says  _ Oh hush now, your mummy will be back soon, Jojo, don’t you wanna be a good girl for mummy?  _ while Rebecca is in her office looking over a new case. 

( She almost smiled at the memory. Almost.) 

“How’s Nate taking it?” And that makes Joanne pause and her dark eyes glance at Rebecca.

“How’s Nate taking what?” Joanne questions, still keeping herself focused on her daughter. And Rebecca swallows. 

“Having a baby.” Rebecca keeps her voice quiet, trying not to disturb her grandchild. And Joanne hums softly as she rubs at her daughter’s back to soothe her. 

“He loves it.” Rebecca almost looks surprised to see a slight smile slip onto her face, “He isn’t fond of leaving her for cases however.”

“Your father was the same way,” Rebecca murmurs — and she doesn’t let herself notice how Joanne flinches at the mention of Rook —,“There were plenty of times that I had to tell him to  _ not  _ sneak you in for cases but-” 

“Don’t do that.” Joanne’s voice is clipped and uncomfortable. And Rebecca stiffens.

“Sorry…” Rebecca’s voice is low and she doesn’t look her daughter in the eye. “I didn’t think that you’d-” 

“You didn’t think I was as bothered about talking about Dad like you’re?” Joanne snorts. “Well, surprise, surprise, I am.” And her tone has taken a defensive edge to it. 

“You weren’t like that before.”

“Back then, my life was filled with secrets.” Joanne’s tone is more sour now. “Secrets that you had a hand in keeping.” 

“And I’m trying to make up for it.” Rebecca says, her hands are balled up and tight. “But you won’t let me do that, Joanne, you aren’t giving me a chance to make up for your mistake.” 

“Because you’re too late.” Joanne leaned back against her chair, and she keeps Guinevere close to her, as if Rebecca would take her. “Just..just stop Rebecca. Please.” And there’s the tone in her voice.

She isn’t angry. 

She isn’t upset.

She’s not sad.

She’s just...done. And Rebecca knows that she’s failed. Failed at doing the last thing that Rook wanted from her.

And so, Rebecca sucks in a deep breath and gets up from her chair, looking at Joanne with a more sadder smile. “I wish things could’ve been different.” She says. Joanne is quiet. 

It’s only when Rebecca goes to the door that she hears her daughter’s voice.

“Me too.” 

Sometimes, Rebecca wonders how Rook would’ve reacted to the relationship that she and Joanne had developed. 


End file.
